One Remaining Passion
by Fingersnaps
Summary: Someone has vengeance in their heart, and a member of Team Gibbs becomes a victim of his lust for revenge…    Author's Note: This story will feature Tim in an important role, but we will not be seeing him for a few chapters...
1. Chapter 1

2

**One Remaining Passion**

**Obsession**

He stood and watched the results of his handiwork; a slow, cold smile played briefly across his face. It had been a long wait, but this moment made every one of those long lonely weeks and months take on a new meaning.

Two years...was it only two years since his world had been blown apart? At first he wouldn't believe them, couldn't believe...Will was only twenty years old, killed just shy of his twenty-first birthday; too young to die. His disbelief lasted until he had to identify the body, he heard screaming then, endless animalistic howling…they told him later he had been the one making those inhuman sounds.

His son was dead, why wouldn't he scream? Suicide by cop the newspapers called it, but he knew that couldn't be true, why would Will want to die? He had everything to live for, a loving family, a good job with great prospects…they lied about the drugs, Will would never take drugs, he knew how much his dad hated them. No, Will didn't want to die, he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, maybe he didn't understand what was happening, that didn't matter to the cops, they'd gunned him down in cold blood.

After he'd seen Will's body, convinced himself that his only son was truly gone, everything went hazy for a while...He got through the funeral, his wife by his side...but she left him too; she couldn't deal with his depression, his deep bouts of black despair when he wanted to die, to lie beside his son in the cold, dark earth...he'd tried to join Will, but he hadn't been able to swallow enough pills, instead he'd come round in the hospital and screamed over and over…he didn't want to wake up, ever again.

They took him away after that, to a sanatorium, and at first he just curled up in his room, wouldn't get out of bed, wouldn't eat, wouldn't take his meds…he wanted to die, and they wouldn't let him. For weeks he existed in this dissasociative state, in the world but not of the world, then slowly, gradually, inch by inch he started to live again; he could hear the doctors congratulating themselves on the success of their treatment and he wanted to laugh in their faces.

If they only knew, their pills and potions had done nothing, their soothing words and platitudes had done nothing. One thing was keeping him alive and one thing only, a burning passion to see those responsible for his son's death brought to justice…and not for him the pitiful justice of the law courts. No, he alone would be the instrument of retribution, he would destroy them as they had allowed his son to be destroyed, they would feel the bitter gall of despair, and then he would be even…

On his release from the sanatorium he set out on his quest. He studied them, followed them, learned everything he could about them and their families; it wasn't going to be easy, making them pay, but he knew Will was watching him, guiding him. Money wasn't a problem, never had been…and he was prepared to spend every last cent to get a righteous outcome for Will.

He'd failed his son in life...but this time he would make amends. He would make the people responsible learn what it was like to lose someone close.

Today would have been Will's twenty-third birthday; this was a father's gift to his beloved son, and this was just the beginning, he'd get them all, however long it might take. Time meant nothing to him now, except as a way of counting the days he'd been without Will, seven hundred and thirty-eight days…how many more until they had all repaid their debt? He didn't know, but he had begun, and on this day of all days, he renewed his vow. 'My life is dedicated to you my son, everything I do is to avenge your death, they will pay, every last one of them, and if I die in the attempt, my life will not have been in vain.'

With great care he picked up the clothes and put them in a carton, he wished he could see their faces when they saw these, but he couldn't have everything, for now he was content that his long quest was coming ever closer to its glorious conclusion.

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	2. Chapter 2

Before this chapter begins, I must rectify an omission I made in the first chapter, and offer my very grateful thanks to Precious Pup for the idea behind this story...I was whining about my writer's block, and she very kindly sent me some quite fabulous ideas...I only hope I can do them justice, this is the first story I'm writing from one of her prompts!

Okay, on with the story...

**Apprehension**

Tony tried to sink a little lower in his chair; out of Gibbs' eye line, all he wanted to do was check his phone. He had a hot date tonight with an airline stewardess, and she'd promised to send him a text the minute her flight got in.

"We keeping you from something Tony?"

"No Boss, just finishing my report."

"Then if you want to leave here this side of midnight, you should get it done before you check your messages."

Tony dropped his phone on the desk and went back to his report, he was almost done, and he had no doubt he'd be out of here by six, leaving him plenty of time to get ready for Nicole. He was all ready to print and run when the phone on Gibbs' desk rang. Not a new case please, not tonight.

"Gibbs."

"Hello…this is Andrew McGee, Tim's dad. Is he there with you?"

Gibbs sat up straighter and tiny alarm bells started ringing in his head. "No, he has some vacation days; we thought he was flying out to San Diego to spend the weekend with you."

There was a momentary silence at the other end of the line.

"He is, it's his mom's birthday Sunday. Agent Gibbs, I went to the airport to meet his flight, he wasn't on it, I tried to call him, then I waited for the next flight from DC…" The alarm bells were getting louder as Andrew continued. "It's not like Tim to be a no show without a reason. I thought…hoped, that you had a case and he hadn't had time to call…maybe he was in an accident. I should call the hospitals…"

"Commander; don't do anything right now, let me make a few calls…could be his car broke down."

"He was taking a cab, Tim doesn't like to leave the Porsche in airport parking lots…Agent Gibbs, what do I tell my wife?"

"Tell her we'll check Tim's apartment, and the cab companies, don't worry Commander McGee, I'll call when we have news."

Gibbs severed the connection and was completely unsurprised to see Tony and Ziva staring at him with undisguised curiosity.

"McGee did not make it to his family?"

"No Ziva, could be nothing, but I want you and Tony to check out his apartment, I'll start calling cab companies, go!"

As they both grabbed coats and back packs and headed for the elevator Gibbs picked up his phone once more. This didn't feel right; even if he'd come down with something Tim would have called his parents, there was more than one flight to San Diego every day, and if he'd missed one it would be simple enough to catch the next…and Gibbs knew Tim wasn't likely to change his plans without letting his dad know, especially when he was being picked up at the airport.

Gibbs hit speed dial, as expected he got Tim's voice mail, he left a message and was about to start calling cab companies when he had another thought. He would put out a BOLO, hoping that before long a very embarrassed McGee would be picked up by the police, and that he'd have a simple explanation for being out of reach.

Gibbs didn't seriously expect that outcome, but it didn't hurt to hope a little; and sticking with that idea certainly helped him to calm Abby down when he had to explain why he might need her to work late.

"But where is he? He's supposed to be in San Diego…Gibbs, what aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing Abs, because there's nothing to tell, there's probably a real simple explanation…"

She'd calmed down a little by the time he hit pay dirt, Argent Cabs in Silver Spring had taken a call from Tim last night, he wanted a car at 07:00 and had called ahead to make sure he wouldn't be late for his flight. Gibbs smiled as he picked up the car keys; it was so like McGee to have every minute of his day planned in advance, which made his disappearance even more worrying. He was on the road when he got a call from Tony.

"He's not here Boss, and no sign of any problems. The refrigerator has been cleared, trash emptied, bed's made."

"Okay Tony, you two meet me at Argent Cabs, 8601 Georgia Avenue, the dispatcher says the driver who took McGee to the airport will be back at 17:30, I want to talk to him."

Tony checked his watch, and caught Ziva's sidelong glance. "What?"

"Are you worried about missing your hot date Tony?"

"Hadn't given it a thought…I was working out how many hours it was since someone heard from McGee, he just doesn't do this…"

"No, he does not. I am sorry Tony, I am concerned too, but I should not be so…"

"Not a problem. God, I hope he decided to do something spontaneous and crazy and take the train or something."

"Tony, for once I agree with you."

Ziva met Gibbs at the entrance to the cab company. "Tony is watching the rear, our man arrived a little early, and we did not want him to leave without talking to us, his name is Ramon Suarez."

Gibbs nodded and walked briskly into the garage. Ziva surreptitiously pointed out a stocky middle-aged man, and they both headed briskly in his direction. He saw them coming and bolted for the back door, but found his escape route blocked by Tony. "You might want to stop right there." He took out his ID. "Federal Agents, we'd like to ask you some questions."

Suarez gave a sigh of relief. "Feds…I thought my bookie sent you."

Gibbs took out his handcuffs. "Do I need these Mr Suarez, or are you going to talk to us?"

Suarez shook his head. "I'll talk; you're sure Ronaldo didn't send you?"

Tony showed him his ID again. "NCIS, that's Naval Criminal Investigative Service, you had a call this morning to take a fare to the airport."

"I…I didn't take any calls this morning."

"Your dispatcher said he sent you."

"Maybe the cab went, but I didn't…look, like I told you, I'm in big trouble with my bookie, owe him five grand. A guy offered to clear my debts if I let him drive my cab this morning."

"And you let him, simple as that?" Gibbs was leaning in close to Suarez; he could see the sheen of perspiration on the driver's forehead.

"Look man…I needed the money, Ronaldo, he can be an impatient man, and I figured this guy, he was like the answer to my prayers…if my wife ever found out about the gambling…I promised her I'd quit months ago, but I can't…"

"So you let this guy take the cab, didn't you stop to ask why he wanted it?"

"Hey, people are strange you know. Driving a cab around for five hours…if someone is crazy enough to want to do that, why shouldn't I take the money?"

"Because maybe this guy wanted to commit a crime…"

Suarez laughed aloud at that. "Come on man! It's a taxi cab, not an armoured car."

Gibbs grabbed Suarez's arm. "You're coming with us; we want a description of the man who gave you the money. Tony, get his cab transported back to NCIS, have Abby start checking it out."

An hour later Gibbs was at his desk, making a list of all the people who may have a grudge against Tim, or more likely the team. Any hope he'd had that this was all a stupid mistake, that Tim's dad had his lines crossed and Tim would call with an apologetic message disappeared the minute Suarez told them about the five thousand dollars. The man who gave him the money wanted to be in the same cab as McGee, and it wasn't likely his intentions were innocent.

Tony exited the elevator, walked over to Gibbs and laid a copy of the e-fit on the desk. Gibbs looked at it, then at Tony. "This is it?"

"I know Boss. I put out the BOLO, but there's no way we're going to get a hit with that, he looks like a cartoon character." The e-fit showed a male face wearing heavy sunglasses, a Lakers baseball cap, and sporting a full beard and bushy moustache. "Disguise 101 Boss, Suarez was too busy counting his money to care that the guy was hinky, seriously, who goes around looking like this, outside of 50's spy movies?"

Gibbs scraped his fingers through his hair, this was not good. "That isn't going to help, until we hear from Abby we need to get back to the files; get Ziva up here."

Tony called down to the evidence garage, Ziva had been helping Abby start her examination of the cab. Abby wanted everything to be just right, she wasn't prepared to let the garage techs loose on the car, so she had recruited Ducky and Jimmy to help, and Gibbs had allowed Ziva to join them until he had work for her; and right now, he had more than enough work for all of them.

Gibbs' eyes were starting to smart from staring at the screen, and he was trying to figure out what to say to Andrew McGee when his phone rang.

"Jethro, you should come to the evidence garage right away."

Gibbs was already on his feet, beckoning to the others to join him; the ride down in the elevator seemed to take forever, and the three of them hurried to the sombre group standing by the cab. Ducky had his arm around Abby; Gibbs could see her hands were shaking. "Duck?"

Ducky pointed to the evidence bags on the table. "Abigail found them in the spare wheel housing."

Inside one bag was Tim's NCIS ID, and in the other, a note in crude block letters written in what appeared at first glance to be dark red ink.

THY SHAME SHALL BE SEEN. I WILL TAKE VENGEANCE.

Gibbs drew in a shaky breath. "Abs, are you okay to do this?"

She shook her head, and in a voice that was barely under control, she whispered. "No, I'm not okay, but I'll run the tests…that…that's blood, Tim's blood."

Ducky pulled her closer to him. "We don't know that for certain my dear. Come along; Jimmy and I will offer our services as lab assistants, and we'll find out for certain."

Jimmy picked up the bags and they headed for Abby's lab, as the elevator doors closed behind them, Gibbs took out his phone. He couldn't put this off any longer; he opened the directory and hit the number for Andrew McGee.

(Bible quotation Isaiah 47:3)


	3. Chapter 3

**Seclusion**

"This is taking too long, come on McGee, it's time you were awake, I don't have all night to stay here, I'd like to...man yes. I'd like to stay here as long as it takes you to die, but we can't always have what we want, can we? Ah, that's better, I thought that little smack would have you coming to...I was starting to think I'd given you too much, and much as I want you dead, I didn't want you to die too soon, that's why I was so careful where I cut you...there are lessons you have to learn before you take your last breath.

Did you know you've been sleeping over twelve hours? You've been out of it ever since I picked you up at your apartment this morning. You looked at me when I opened the cab door, but you didn't really see me, so it was easy to stick you with the needle...'Let me get the door for you sir.' And when I did you never saw it coming, who would? No one ever really looks at cab drivers, have you ever noticed that? We're all so busy, places to go, people to see, but you won't ever have to worry about being busy ever again...and you have nowhere else to go ever again.

This place...took me a month to find it, somewhere secluded; I wanted somewhere peaceful and quiet, where you can reflect on past mistakes. It may not be much to look at, and it's cold in here...you won't know that right now, but when the drug wears off you'll find out about the cold...but it's dry. You may not like it, but it's going to be your home from home for a few days...maybe even a little longer...it can be surprising how resilient the human body can be...but you should be sure of one thing Timothy McGee, this is your final resting place, no one is going to find you here, not even Gibbs.

Got your attention there, didn't I? I don't want you holding out false hope, this is the end of the road...you have to pay. Where are my manners? I forgot to introduce myself, my name is Adam Shantry – oh yes, we got a flicker of recognition there didn't we? You know the name, or should I say you know the name William Shantry. You remember when he died, when he was gunned down in cold blood, when my life fell apart? I know you remember it, but it's not carved on your heart like it is on mine. At first I didn't know anything about you...all I knew was, Will was gone, but when I got my head together, I had to find out the truth about how he died, and when I knew, I had to go after the people responsible, you see that, don't you? I went from not knowing you, to hating you in the space of a year, quite a turnaround, eh McGee? And I do hate you, all of you; with a white hot hate that all the water in the ocean can't quench...I want you dead, each and every one.

How's the wake-up coming? It's got to be tough, I hope it is…I studied all the drugs before I chose what to give you, this one's my favourite….lots of possibilities, and I know right now you're not likely to be understanding everything I say, but it's important to me that you know what's coming. It was ketamine, try to remember that, it might help you later when you get all your faculties back…I know you have to find out about these things at NCIS…can you see me yet McGee, or are you still in the altered perception stage? What are you seeing McGee? Heck, even if you could tell me, would I understand? People who take the drug have problems talking...slur their words...but it's not all bad news for you. The drug is keeping the pain at bay...but when it wears off, you're going to feel it, and it's what you deserve...It's a pity I can't be here when that happens, I'd love to hear you scream in agony, the way I screamed when I saw him...my boy...

No...don't think about that now, keep on track. I'm not sure how much longer it will be before the pain kicks in, they say the effects can last longer if you're not a regular drug user, and I'm guessing you don't have a history of drug use; who am I kidding? I'm not guessing, I know. I've been watching you, all of you...I know you almost as well as you know yourself.

You should be honoured you know, you're special to me McGee, you're the first...your death will be a lesson to the others, they'll know I mean business, I can just imagine how they're all going to feel when they find your body...Because eventually, when I know you're dead I'll let them know where you are...they already know someone has you, and they know I want vengeance...that's a sweet word isn't it? The first taste is the sweetest of all...

Now you're really waking up aren't you? I wouldn't recommend moving McGee; I know it's tempting, 'specially now that the numbness is wearing off, but believe me, if you don't keep still, the pain will be worse than you can possibly imagine...and it's going to go on for hours and hours, even so you'll only be getting a small taste of what it's like to be me...Oh! Messy McGee! That's a lot of puke...you should clean that up, oh no, you can't, you're tied up right now, get it? Tied up...oh that's a good one, tied up...not tied, shackled...slow down...no time to lose control...breathe deep, like they showed me in the sanatorium...see what I've come to McGee? You see how tough it is for me to get through a day without losing some more of my mind?

But I'll maintain control...I have to...there's so much owed to Will, so much...I can't stop, not until the debt has been paid in full, until my son has been avenged.

You stink McGee, and the sight of you still breathing is making me sick to my stomach…so I'm going to get out of here and leave you to contemplate…think hard on what I lost McGee. You'll be alone….Alone, like I was at the sanatorium, cut off from my family, the few friends I had left deserted me…I couldn't even visit my son's grave, can you imagine how hard that was…he was barely cold, and they wouldn't let me visit…

One last thing to do before I go…I have to have a picture, what do they call it? Proof of like…only this one will be proof of the inevitability of your death. I told you not to move, it's a futile exercise, there is no escape for you, just like there was no escape for my son when he walked out of that liquor store…smile for the camera, no? Okay, I'm done here. I won't say rest easy, because you won't , not for a few days, then maybe the lack of food and water, and the constant pain will send you into a coma; that has to be better than starving to death…either way, you're gone, and that's all I need right now…one down, three to go."


	4. Chapter 4

**Tension**

"Gibbs, I'm thinking I should put another team on this case."

"What!"

"Hear me out; if someone has taken McGee because of a case, they could be after the rest of your team. I'm not sure I want you out on the streets investigating under those circumstances."

Gibbs started pacing around the Director's office. "What do you want us to do? Sit around the squad room making phone calls while McGee is out there? Not going to happen Leon. I promised Tim's dad I would find his son, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

Vance gave a slightly resigned smile. "I figured you'd say that, I'm assigning Graham Kent to work with the team on interviews until you get McGee back. I want you in pairs whenever you leave this building, no flying solo on this one, understood Gibbs? Now go, find McGee."

Gibbs hurried down the stairs to the squad room, he was already resenting the few minutes he had spent away from his desk. There were so many names to chase down. Somewhere in those case-files had to be a name that could lead them to the person who had taken their team mate.

Ziva and Tony were working diligently, and Gibbs knew Abby and her two recruits were sifting through the fingerprints, fibres and hairs from the cab. They'd all been here since 06:00, and he knew if he'd let them they would have stayed all through the night. He had only got them to go home at all by convincing them they wouldn't be at their best if they stayed, and they all had to be at the top of their game to find Tim. He needed something positive for Tim's parents', they were due in later this evening, Gibbs had tried to dissuade them, but Andrew was determined that they were going to be close at hand when Tim was found…now all they had to do was find him.

Gibbs was waylaid on his way back to his desk by Maria Nesbit, a Senior Agent on the cold case team, like many other agents here today she'd given up her day off to help.

"I've run the records on these names Gibbs, most of them are still in prison, so I've got agents talking to their families; this one's a possibility. Charles Bright Junior, your team put his mother away for murder, seems he's been posting some anti-NCIS stuff on his BLOG. I thought you might want to talk to him yourself." She handed Gibbs a computer print out.

"We will, thanks Marie...not just for this."

"He's family Gibbs, and we need him around to keep DiNozzo in check."

Gibbs smiled briefly, headed back to his desk and added Charles Bright's name to the ever growing list of people they had to interview. He wasn't looking forward to seeing that kid again, having parents who murdered women and cut off their toes...that had to leave a kid with real problems.

"Boss..."

"Something on your mind Tony?"

Tony hesitated for a second; they had enough on their plates without throwing something new into the mix, but he had to..."I know it's most likely whoever took Tim has a link to one of our cases, I mean, if they wanted money we'd have heard by now...it's just..."

"Spit it out."

"What if it's the CIA, or even the FBI? Tim's hacked into their systems, made them look bad, maybe someone's looking for payback."

With a deep sigh, Gibbs picked up his phone. "I'll call Fornell, and get Leon to call the CIA Director, have them check that out...as soon as Kent gets here we'll go out and talk to some people on our lists. Tim's parents' are coming in later this afternoon, and I don't want to tell them we have nothing."

But the time passed, and the clock moved closer to the hour when Tim's mom and dad would arrive at NCIS, and the truth was they had nothing. Oh, they had lots of names, but so far not one of them had produced a cast-iron lead. The few clear fingerprints that Abby had lifted from the cab had led them to a clerk at the US Treasury, a German tourist, and a soccer mom whose prints were in the system due to a DUI conviction. Every other print was too smudged to be of any use, Abby hadn't even been able to find Tim's prints anywhere.

The blood on the note was Tim's; not that they had been in any doubt about that. There had been fresh tears from Abby when the DNA confirmation came through. She had been keeping her emotions under control most of the time, but the notion that whoever was holding Tim had wounded him, and used his blood this way had been too much for her to bear.

By 17:30 they were all emotionally exhausted, and they had nothing. Hours of interviews, and alibi checks had led them nowhere; Vance had been assured by his counterpart at the CIA that there was no operation against McGee. Fornell was still checking at the FBI, but he had told Gibbs he was pretty sure no one was still bearing any grudges. Gibbs wasn't so sure, but without hard evidence he had nowhere else to go.

None of the people they had spoken to today seemed likely candidates, sure some of them had been angry, but most seemed to be angrier at the family members, partners and friends who had committed the crimes rather than the men and women who had put them away.

As Gibbs had suspected Charles Bright was one mixed-up kid; but he didn't have the financial resources or the intelligence to put together a plan to abduct a federal agent. During their interview the youngster had almost fallen apart, he had struggled since his mother's arrest, and the subsequent court case to come to terms with what she had done. Instead of turning his anger toward her or his dead father, Charles had focussed on NCIS; blaming them for putting his mother in prison. Tony observed later. "If that kid doesn't get some serious therapy, he's not going to make it."

Now they were back at their desks, each of them unwilling to voice their fears, Tim had been missing for over thirty-four hours, and with every hour that passed their hopes of finding him alive dimmed a little.

Abby and her team had found a number of hairs in the cab; some of them were suitable for DNA analysis. The profiles were being checked against every database Abby could find, but as yet there were no positive matches.

The elevator doors pinged open, and Gibbs knew the moment he had been dreading had arrived. One look at the man's eyes and it was obvious he was Tim's dad; those green eyes were dimmed now, the tension of the last hours was clear to see. But his face was a vision of studied calm in comparison to the woman by his side. She was a head shorter than her husband and was leaning against him, seemingly unable to cross the room without his guidance. Her auburn hair was scraped back in a rough pony-tail, today of all days, she had no interest in her appearance, she just wanted to be here…As Agent Warner escorted them across the squad room Gibbs couldn't help thinking. 'They're younger than me', not by much it was true, but that possibility had never occurred to him.

"Agent Gibbs, this is Commander and Mrs McGee."

"Thanks Warner. Commander..."

"No formalities please Agent Gibbs, Tess and I feel like we already know you; Tim...he's told us so much about you, all of you. I'm Andrew, this is Theresa...I wish...I never pictured us meeting under these circumstances."

Theresa grabbed hold of Gibbs' hand. "Do you have any news?"

The note of desperation in her question cut through Gibbs. He led her to his chair and helped her to sit; she looked on the point of collapse. Andrew rushed to stand behind her and gently laid his hands on her shoulders. "They'll find him Tess, and he'll be alive...you know Tim, he's not a quitter, never has been."

She reached up for his hand and seemed to draw strength from her husband's touch. Turning once more to Gibbs, she asked. "Has anyone made contact since...the note, has there been a ransom demand? We don't have much money, but for Tim…"

Gibbs shook his head. "Kidnappers would have been in touch by now, we think…it's likely to be about the job, the team…"

Patiently he took Tim's parents' through what they had done that day. Andrew and Theresa couldn't help but be impressed by the thoroughness of the investigation, and by the way so many people here at NCIS were working to find their son. But the fact remained, he was still missing...and judging by the blood on the note, he was in pain.

As Gibbs completed his report, they were joined in the squad room by Abby, Ducky and Jimmy. Introductions were completed and Abby stood hesitantly beside Theresa. "Can I give you a hug?"

Theresa could see the need in Abby's eyes, and she knew it was mirrored in her own. She got to her feet and put out her arms; Abby walked in to the open embrace and they held each other tight, each of them wishing it was Tim they were holding.

Ducky shook hands with Andrew. "I would not have asked for a meeting under these circumstances Andrew, but I am so pleased to meet you at last. You have a very fine son, you should be proud."

"I am Ducky, every day of my life I thank God for my children."

Ducky gave him a warm smile, and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Timothy will get through this Andrew, Jethro and the others will not rest until they find him. Oh, speaking of rest, do you have somewhere to stay? You would be most welcome to stay at my home."

Andrew shook his head. "Thanks Ducky, but we're staying with an old buddy. He lives on base housing here at the Navy Yard, so we'll be close at hand when there's news."

The phone on Gibbs' desk sent out its shrill dial tone, and every head turned toward the sound.

"Gibbs…no, not here….take it to the lab, we'll be waiting." He replaced the receiver and answered the unasked question. "A package has been delivered for me, it's cleared security…"

The team moved almost as one toward the elevator, Gibbs hung behind and asked Andrew. "Do you want to come? We have no idea what's in the package, or even if it relates to Tim's case, but I know if it was my son…"

"I'd like to come, but Tess…"

She was already on her feet. "He's my son too Drew…I need to know…"

They were all in the lab by the time the package was delivered, Neil Hewitt placed it carefully on the counter and made his exit, leaving Gibbs to don his gloves and break open the seal. He lifted the lid, just enough so that he alone could see inside. The first thing he saw was a shoe, Tim's shoe...he took off the lid and the contents of the package were there for all to see, they crowded around the counter. Folded neatly under a pair of shoes were items of clothing; Theresa reached out a hand, needing to touch something of his, but Andrew was quicker, and took her hand in his.

"Tess, this is...evidence...we can't touch..."

"But they belong to Tim...Drew, please..."

"Honey, I knew you shouldn't have come, you don't have to see this. Jethro, I think we should go, you have...work to do, and we're getting in the way. You call me when you get something, any time...it's not likely I'll be sleeping much tonight."

Jimmy offered to escort them out, and as the elevator doors closed behind them Gibbs turned to Abby. "Are you ready for this Abs?"

"Yes! There has to be something in here, a single hair, a speck of...of blood, something to tell me who has Tim..."She broke off momentarily and looked around the room, almost pleading with them "There will be something, won't there?"

Ducky gave her a quick hug and noticed a change in Ziva's expression. She was pointing to the package. "Gibbs, in the shoe...is that a piece of paper?"

Tony quickly grabbed an evidence bag as Gibbs carefully unfolded the paper. He felt them all close by as he held the note at arm's length.

_Thou shalt give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound._

"Life for life…Boss, you think he's already…"

"Tony!" Ziva elbowed Tony in the ribs as she watched Abby's reaction. But instead of falling apart Abby took out a pair of gloves, and with only slightly trembling hands she put them on.

"Tim's not...he's not…dead…if he was Gibbs would know, his mom and dad, they'd know…I'd feel it." She removed the shoes and placed them in evidence bags; her hands shook a little harder as she lifted out a blood stained T-shirt, bearing the slogan 'Time Lords….' "I got this for his birthday, he loves Doctor Who…"

Gibbs kissed her cheek. "You can get him a new one Abs. Tony, Ziva you're with me. Duck, do you have plans tonight, or can you stay to help Abby?"

"I'll stay Jethro, of course I will. However, I do think it may be wise to send out for refreshments."

"Always looking out for us; I'm on it."

They left Abby and Ducky unpacking the box, knowing Jimmy would be joining them any minute. It was a tense ride back up to the squad room.

"Boss, back in the lab - I shouldn't have said…"

"Don't sweat it Tony. Abby's right, Tim's not dead…whoever took him wants him that way, but it's not going to happen, you hear me? Not on my watch. We start again, and we stay all night if we have to…let's move!"

(Bible Quotation Exodus 21:23-25)


	5. Chapter 5

**Suspension**

The first awakening had been a confused jumble of words...endless, sometimes meaningless words. He drifted in and out of consciousness and was aware of the first stirrings of the pain that had since become his constant companion. He heard the voice, on and on it went. Tim couldn't remember every word, but even with his mind clouded by drugs, he could detect the venom, the raw hatred, and he didn't know why...why had this man chosen him? Then in a rare moment of clarity he heard the name Will Shantry, and he knew...

The second time he was overwhelmed by the stench, he'd woken up, coughing and struggling to breathe as the stink of his own vomit assailed his nostrils. When did that happen? He couldn't remember throwing up...couldn't remember getting here, wherever here was...He remembered coming out of his apartment building, getting into the cab…did he get into the cab? Everything was so mixed-up…he should be in San Diego now, with his mom and dad, shouldn't he? He had no idea how long he had been here…but already it seemed like forever.

Would anyone be looking for him? Through dry lips he whispered. "Please…I could use…some help here…guys…"

But no one was listening, he was alone…

Next time it was the pain that woke him, pain quickly followed by another wave of nausea...when he finally stopped heaving he lifted his head as much as he was able, and tried to get his breathing under control, but his chest felt so tight...he couldn't seem to take a deep breath. He looked up with eyes now accustomed to the darkness to see his hands shackled and the chain looped over a hook in the roof, small wonder breathing was difficult...With his mind now clear of the drug induced fog he tried to assess his situation, to discover a way of getting himself out of here…Tim tried to find a foothold, to get some respite from the pain in his shoulders and arms, but Shantry had chosen his spot well, Tim's feet didn't touch the ground, and whichever direction he tried, he couldn't reach the walls. He cried out in frustration, but no one answered, all he heard was his own hoarse voice echoing around the chamber, and all the time the smell of stale vomit made him want to throw up again...but there was nothing left in his stomach.

Had he blacked out again? He must have…but he was awake now, and cold…so cold. He was shivering, a bone-shaking trembling that he was powerless to control. Tim lowered his head to get a look at himself, and what he saw sent new tremors through his body. He was naked…Shantry had taken everything…there was a gash on his chest, he wasn't sure whether it was deep…the pain in his arms was so severe, he didn't think his brain could process lesser hurts…he stank too; and it wasn't just the puke…if Shantry's plan was to strip him of every last modicum of human dignity, he'd done a good job.

Tim's arms felt as if they were being slowly tugged from their sockets, the burning at his wrists was getting worse. He lifted his head slowly; he had discovered that if he made any sudden movements the pain was almost unendurable, he saw dark streaks running down his arms, he was bleeding…how much longer could he endure this agony?

He had lost all track of time, but he knew he'd been here for hours and hours, was it days? He had no idea...would they be looking for him by now? Of course they would...but what if Shantry had hidden his tracks too well, what if there were no clues that would lead the team to him? He thought he remembered Shantry saying that Gibbs wouldn't find him...Tim refused to believe that, if he could just hold out until they got to him...but he didn't know if he could do that, not unless they got here real soon...


	6. Chapter 6

6

Chapter Six ffnet

**Discussion**

They had worked through the night, and into the next morning, but still they were not one step closer to finding Tim.

Gibbs had worked with Ziva and Tony going over case files again, but this time concentrating on any deaths that had occurred either during the case, or in the intervening months and years. Tony set down his phone and let out a deep sigh. Ziva stretched her aching muscles and walked slowly over to Tony's desk. "Are you okay?"

"No…won't be 'til we find him. Ziva…" he had been unusually silent, and now he seemed to be struggling to find the words. "Ziva, do you think Jeanne Benoit could be behind this?"

"That is what has been worrying you? Tony, you think she carries so much hate? McGee, he was not involved…"

"But I was…if she's getting to me through him – how do I look his parents in the eye if Tim…"

"Not everything is about you Tony; as a team, we have put many people behind bars, used force if necessary, sometimes the ultimate force…And McGee…he killed Lieutenant Benedict, Petty Officer Cove and Adrian Corbett died because of his book, or because of Landon Grey's obsession with the book."

"But they all checked out, their families I mean…"

"And Jeanne?"

"She's still in Africa, but that doesn't mean she couldn't pay someone to do this, I know she has the money."

Ziva stooped beside him and looked deep into his eyes. "Tony…she loved you, perhaps you broke her heart…but I did not see such hatred in her."

"She tried to frame me for her dad's murder!"

"Yes she did…you, not Gibbs, not McGee…you. Her focus was never on us Tony, only you."

Tony slumped in his chair; he knew deep down that Ziva was right; he just wanted to find a link…someone who had the means to give a man five thousand dollars like it was small change. Yet again they were coming up with nothing but dead ends…he was starting to hate that expression. Everywhere he turned he was seeing death, that couldn't happen to Tim, not like this…

They were bone weary, but this time they were not going home, not until they found Tim. During the night they had all tried to catch some sleep, it was hard, thinking of their friend, not knowing where he was, or how he was…

Abby had more samples running in the lab, she had almost squealed with excitement when she found a grey hair on Tim's jacket…this time there would be a match, there had to be…she was still waiting. Dirt and pollen on Tim's shoes and pants indicated he'd been taken through a wooded area, but that didn't narrow things down much…DC was surrounded by thousands of acres of woodland and forests.

By mid morning everyone was flagging, the physical tiredness was only exacerbated by the mental fatigue that was setting in fast…Gibbs was about to call a halt for coffee when the elevator doors opened to reveal Andrew and Theresa McGee laden with plastic food boxes. Andrew strode over to Gibbs and gave a very weary smile.

"When Tess is worried, she bakes. We figured you could all use a sugar rush right about now. How do blueberry muffins and apple and cinnamon cookies sound?"

Tony leapt to his feet. "Like manna from heaven! Mrs…Theresa…how did you know I love apple and cinnamon cookies?"

Theresa glanced across at Tim's empty desk. "I had inside information Tony."

"Tim...he really talks about us? What we do here?"

Even in her weary state Theresa couldn't help smiling at Tony's nervous expression. "Don't worry Tony; I'm sure he doesn't tell us everything. Tim's always been good at keeping things to himself."

Gibbs looked around him, at all the drained faces and made a decision. "We need a breather, let's get the others and take a proper break. We can use the conference room, and I'll go out for coffee."

Twenty minutes later they were seated around the table, the NCIS contingent pouncing hungrily on the home baked treats. Andrew and Theresa sat back, sipping occasionally at their coffee, neither of them had much of an appetite, but it did them good to see Tim's friends making the most of what was obviously a much needed break. Andrew put down his cup. "I can see why Tim loves working here, you're good people. You have a great team Jethro."

"We're lucky to have him Andrew; he's grown into a fine agent, one of the best. And I wouldn't be surprised to see him sitting in Vance's chair one of these days." Gibbs leaned closer to Andrew. "We will find him, don't doubt me on that."

"I don't…and I don't doubt my son either, if anyone can survive, he can…he's had to fight from day one…" Andrew's eyes brightened with unshed tears, and Theresa took his hand in hers. She turned to the others and gave a pensive smile.

"Drew and I, we started dating when we were seventeen…Tim always says we're the living high school sweetheart cliché…married at nineteen, Tim came along ten months later, he was early…almost too early. It was my fault; Drew's ship was docking at Norfolk and I was in a hurry to get to the car…to be there to meet him, I slipped on some ice.…it was a bitterly cold November that year…he wasn't due until the end of January." Silent tears fell down her cheeks, and she wiped them away impatiently. Andrew pulled her toward him.

"Hush Tess, it was an accident. When I got to the hospital Tess was in surgery, and the baby…he was in an incubator…I couldn't believe something so tiny could survive…but like I said, he's a fighter…"

"He was so precious to us…I…there were complications, the doctors told me I could never have more children."

Tony was dragged out of his stunned silence by that. "But Sarah…"

"She's adopted, and we love her equally with Tim…I would give my life for either of them, but Tim…we watched him fight for every breath." She looked down at her trembling hands. "We couldn't hold him at first…but if I put my hand in the incubator, he would grab my pinky finger and hold so tight, like he was hanging on to life. He was so tiny…that's what we started to call him, Tiny Tim, you know…_A Christmas Carol,_ and when he got stronger, and we could hold him…one of the nurses told us, Timothy…it means honouring God, and we'd prayed so hard for him to live…it seemed perfect for him."

Abby pulled her chair closer to Theresa; she didn't want to miss any of this. "Oh, that's why you never gave Tim a middle name!"

"That's right Abby, he didn't need one. He got stronger day by day, and eventually we were able to take him home, and we were a family at last."

"I was the proudest man in Norfolk that day, walking into our home with my lovely wife, and our son…Tim's problems weren't over, he had a lot of illnesses as a child, missed a lot of school, not that it mattered to him, he picked everything up so easy…he still has his allergies, and his seasickness. But he's never let any of it get on the way of what he wanted to do, if anything it all made him more determined. And when we got Sarah, I swear he grew a foot overnight…he seemed to decide there and then that he had to be his little sister's protector…I guess you know he's never got over that…"

"Ya think? Andrew, where is Sarah? Have you told her about all this?"

Andrew shook his head. "No Jethro, mercifully she's thousands of miles away. Teaching with the Peace Corps on a tiny island in the South Pacific – Kiribati, from what she's told us she's learning as much as she's teaching, and she loves it there. I'm not going to tell her anything…not unless I have to…I won't have to will I Jethro…you'll find him?"

"We will Andrew, I gave you my word…Theresa, those were the best cookies I've had since Sha- in a very long time, but it's time we all got back to work…Tim's relying on us."

Theresa took Gibbs' hand in hers. "He knows you'll find him Jethro, and so long as he has a breath in his body he won't give up, so long as there's a chance he'll fight…he has to…Jethro, I want him back…" The tears she'd tried to hold inside welled in her eyes, and she began sobbing as if her heart would break. Andrew enfolded her in his arms.

"Let's get you back to Bruce's place."

"No! No, I can't rest there…I have to stay."

Andrew took out a handkerchief and wiped his wife's face, he turned to Abby. "We're going out of our minds waiting…could we come to the lab? We won't interrupt your work, but if we could be there…"

Abby glanced over to Gibbs, and he nodded his assent. She took Theresa's hand.

"I'd love to have the company, I left some tests running, let's go see if there are any results, and you can tell me more about Tim growing up…"

They followed Abby down to the lab; Gibbs put his hand on Ducky's arm to delay him. "Am I doing the right thing Duck, letting them go down there again?"

"Jethro, do you seriously think anything we find could be worse that what they are imagining?"

"Okay, but if you think it's too much, you get them out of there."

"I will; now then Jimmy, it is time you went home, you should get some proper rest before your shift at the hospital tomorrow."

"But Doctor…"

"No buts Jimmy, your assistance has been invaluable, but you have patients who will be relying on you to be at your best. Go Jimmy, and thank you for staying so long."

"If there's any news…"

"I will call you right away."

They went their separate ways, and Gibbs, Ziva and Tony headed back to the squad room.

"Me and my stupid big mouth…"

"Tony?"

"I ragged on him about being a sickly child…"

"I do not remember that."

"You weren't here, you were skiing with Raymondo, Tim was sneezing…allergies…I told him I wished you were there not him…OW, what was that for Boss?"

"To get your head back in the game; you think Tim cares about what you said. He was a sickly child, his dad just told us that, but he's not a child now – focus on the man he is, and find him, before it's too late."

There was an email waiting for Gibbs when he got back to his desk.

"Warden Bryce has finally sent the visitor list for Landon Grey, he had two regular visitors, we should go talk to them."

Grey had taken his own life in prison, and Gibbs had been waiting for the names of his visitors, if there was a relative who blamed NCIS for his death…

They were at the elevator door, ready to head out, as the doors opened Agent Holden stepped out. "Agent Gibbs, Oh, you're on your way out; this is Father Flynn, he says he has something for you."

Gibbs shook hands with the rosy faced, and slightly harassed priest. "Father, I'm Gibbs, my desk is this way, take a seat."

"Thank you, this is most unusual Agent Gibbs…nothing like this has ever happened to me before…Sister Veronica Marie was counting the donations from this morning's collection, eleven o clock mass always has the most...sorry, as I said, this is unusual. She found this envelope - not that that's unusual, lots of people put their donations in envelopes…but there was no money inside, there was another envelope, here – it's addressed to you.

Gibbs quickly put on gloves and took the proffered envelope. It certainly was addressed to him.

PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL

PLEASE DELIVER TO SPECIAL AGENT L J GIBBS

NCIS HEADQUARTERS

NAVY YARD

Very carefully he opened the envelope, and took out the sheet of paper inside, Ziva took in a sharp breath as she saw the photograph, and Tony let out a low exclamation. "Oh Tim…man…this is bad…"

Gibbs knew there were questions he should ask, about security cameras, witnesses, but right now all he could focus on was getting the picture to Abby, maybe here at last was a clue to Tim's whereabouts. "Agent Holden will wait with you and get some details, we'll be back…"

They raced for the stairs, sometimes the elevator just seemed to take too long, and as they ran down the stairwell Gibbs tried to make sense of the note attached to the picture. _That will by no means clear the guilty; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children. _

The three of them almost burst through the door into the lab. Abby didn't even turn around. "Told you he'd be here. I got a ding Gibbs!"

"A match? Show me."

"It only just this second came through from ADFIL, the gray hair from Tim's jacket… it's not a perfect match, but it's close enough that the hair belongs to a close relative of this guy…Andrew, are you okay?"

Every vestige of colour seemed to drain from Andrew's face, he stared at the screen. "Sweet Jesus…Tim wasn't taken because of his job; it's because of me…" He reached out blindly for his wife's hand. "Tess; he came back…he said he'd make us pay, but I never dreamed…Oh Tim, I'm so sorry…"

(Bible Quotation Exodus 34:6-7)

AFDIL Armed Forces DNA Identification Laboratory


	7. Chapter 7

**Decision**

Was this what dying felt like? The numbing cold… the thirst…he had lost feeling in his arms, he didn't know when, and he tried to think…was the lack of feeling better than the pain? Probably not, at least the pain told him he was still alive, without it, he was in a kind of limbo, not dead…but not truly living.

Tim had long since given up trying to reach the walls, he had exhausted himself in his vain attempt to gain a foothold,; his small reserve of strength was fading, and he couldn't risk wasting any more on unnecessary movement, he had to concentrate on breathing.

Shantry had left him to die, but would he be prepared to wait, or would he be coming back to check on him, to make certain he was dead? If he was still breathing, would Shantry put him out of his misery, or leave him here to struggle for every breath?

No! He was not going to hang here like a piece of meat and wait to die, his dad would never recover if he died because of Shantry, and if his dad went under, his mom would go with him; and Sarah…where would that leave Sarah? Tim was not going to allow Shantry to destroy his family…

He had to get away from here…somehow…

Slowly he raised his head, he looked at the sturdy metal hook secured to the roof, the hook wouldn't budge, he'd tried to move it, and had wasted more of his strength, and suffered more agony as the shackles cut into his wrists…so how could he get away? Wait, maybe there was a way, he remembered Tony telling him, yet again, about some movie he'd seen…what was it called? There was a number…he knew that…a true story Tony said, about a guy whose arm was trapped under a boulder…he cut off his own arm to escape. Oh yeah, he could do that, if only he had a free hand…and a knife. "Not helping Tony."

But the idea had taken hold…If he could free his hand...he squinted slightly as he tried to concentrate on the chain above his head...it was looped over the hook, not through it...if he could release one hand from its shackle, the chain would slide off the hook and he would be free...unless he was locked in this place, no – he wouldn't think about that now, first thing was to get down from here.

Tim hung very still for a while, weighing up the pros and cons of the crazy idea that had started to grow in his mind...could he do this, go through with deliberately inflicting more pain on his already battered body...did he have a choice? No...somehow he had to draw on what little reserves of strength he still possessed and get his hand out of its metal prison...

He looked up again, then quickly looked down...it would be tough enough doing this, he didn't need to see it...he had made his decision, he was going to do this, it would be his right hand...not the left...he knew the only way to do this was to break or dislocate his thumb; he also knew he could cause permanent damage, and he didn't want to risk that happening to his left hand...

'_You can do this Tim, I know it hurts, but you have to try; one more step_…'

Tim woke with a start…he'd blacked out again? Must have, because he was still alone, his dad wasn't here; was he? No, it was a memory…after his accident, when he crashed the car…his mom and dad were with him every single step of his recovery…that was it, Tim's mind was made up, it was now or never; if he lost consciousness again, he might not come round next time…

He tried to breathe deep, to fill his lungs with life-giving oxygen. He flexed the fingers of his right hand just to make sure he still had some control…if he couldn't move his hand his plan was dead in the water.

He could only pray that the shackles weren't too tight...Even if he used every last bit of his fading strength, would he be able to do this? For a dark second or two he decided not to try, the pain...he'd already had so much pain...but he had no intention of passing that pain on to his father...he had to try...even if it took his last breath, he had to try...

He folded his thumb as far into his palm as it would go, extended his fingers and drew them as close together as he could...was this even possible, or was he suffering some kind of pain-induced delirium? He risked a glance at his bloody hands...time to stop thinking...time to make a move.

Tim took a deep breath, gathered every morsel of strength he had left and pulled his arm as hard as he could, the widest part of his hand had hit the shackle and stayed there. Tim was panting now...ready for what was to come, he pulled harder, tried to make his hand as small as possible...but the pain...no...don't think – do. He'd thought his hands were numb, he was wrong; he could feel the skin being torn away, but still he was bound...one last time, this had to work...he heard a loud crack, and felt a searing pain that jolted through his body, it was white-hot agony…He screamed once, a high-pitched, almost animalistic shriek that echoed back and forth around the chamber; there was a dull thud as his body hit the ground, then silence...cold, empty silence…


	8. Chapter 8

**Comprehension**

They stood in stunned silence as Theresa took her husband in her arms and whispered. "Drew, you know that's wrong…it's Shantry…he's to blame, not you."

Gibbs very gently laid his hand on Andrew's shoulder. "I know this is rough Andrew, but we need to know. Shantry…what is he to you"

Andrew held tight to Theresa's hand. "He was a thorn in my flesh…." His voice gave out as he struggled to control his emotion; Ducky quickly handed him a bottle of water. Andrew briefly smiled his thanks, and after taking a sip he continued. "It was two years ago…I thought he'd forgotten…or come to his senses. He lost his son, blamed me…us…I was on the panel processing William's application for officer training…Jethro! There were three others on the panel – do you think?"

"Give us their names, we'll check it out."

"Bruce Welford, Todd Rhodes and Carolyn Farmer…hurry Jethro, we're staying at Bruce's place, he has a son too…"

"Ziva, get whatever help you need, these people need to be on their guard."

"Right away Gibbs."

She headed up to the squad room, and Gibbs turned to Andrew once more. "This thorn in your flesh, he have a name?"

"Adam Shantry, he's William's father."

"Tony."

"BOLO, on it Boss."

Tony was about to follow Ziva upstairs when Gibbs called him back. "Tony, take Andrew and Theresa back to the conference room, we need to get more information about Shantry…it's more comfortable up there."

"Jethro, I'd rather wait here…with Abby…"

"I know Theresa, but right now you will be more help to Tim telling us everything you can about Shantry."

She nodded sadly. "You're right…he was crazy you know…Shantry…he made wild accusations…"

"I'll join you when I've confirmed a couple of things with Abby, okay?"

Tony led them out of the lab, Ducky moved closer to his friend. "What was that all about Jethro?"

"They didn't need to see this Duck…Abby, I have another job for you…this is the toughest yet…Shantry sent us a picture." He waited for her to put on gloves and reluctantly handed her the photograph. "Abs, I need anything you can give me…understood?"

She glanced up from the picture, her eyes full of tears, but her lips were set in a determined line, if there was anything in the picture that could help them, she would find it…

Ducky took his place beside Abby and they both took a long look at the 8x10 print. Tim was hanging from a chain looped over a large hook, his wrists held in metal shackles. He was naked, a bloody gash on his chest indicating the source of the blood for the first note. There were dark bruises at his wrists, and vomit stains on his chin and abdomen; but it was his eyes that held Abby's gaze. He was staring into the camera lens, his eyes still glassy from whatever drugs Shantry had given to him, but Abby could see the hurt, and the helplessness…she wanted him back; she wanted it so much it was like a physical pain…she squared her shoulders. Stop this Abby, if she felt this way, how much worse must it be for Theresa and Andrew? She had to do everything she could to reunite Tim with his mom and dad.

"Come on Ducky, let's get to work."

Gibbs gave her one of his rare smiles and headed up to the conference room.

Andrew and Theresa sat side by side; it seemed to Gibbs that they had shrunk in the few minutes since he had seen them last. Tony was pouring coffee.

"BOLO's done Boss, Shantry's got three cars, they've all been added to the alert. Ziva and Kent have contacted Commander Welford and Ms Farmer, she left the Navy last year…Captain Rhodes is at sea, but we'll alert the Agent Afloat."

"Good work Tony. Andrew, we need detail…why would Adam Shantry want Tim?"

Andrew's voice was shaky, but he was determined to get through this, the more Jethro knew, the better were Tim's chances. "Like I said, his son applied for officer training; it was pretty obvious that he didn't have what it took…don't get me wrong, he was a good sailor, very good…but as a leader, he couldn't hack it."

"Tell Jethro about the bribe." Theresa moved a little closer to Andrew, and took his hand once more.

Andrew shrugged a little. "Not sure you could call it a bribe Tess…Adam Shantry, let's just say his family has money, lots of it…he offered to sponsor a training programme…we're talking big money, but all of us got the impression the money was only on the table so long as William got into the officer programme."

"And that didn't happen?"

"No…it was a unanimous decision, Carolyn…she's a psychologist, her report was pretty damning, William had some issues, was in awe of his father…maybe even feared him…took commands well, but was unlikely to ever be able to give orders…so we refused his application." His voice faltered and Theresa took up the story.

"That's when the letters started, and the phone calls…it was Adam Shantry, at first he was calm, asked Drew to get the panel to reconsider. Then a few days later we saw the evening news...about William. He was taking part in a liquor store robbery, came out firing...the police...they shot him..." Andrew gripped her hand tighter as she started to cry quietly. "After that the calls got...evil, Shantry made threats; not just us, he called the others too; then suddenly it all stopped...we heard he'd had a breakdown...we thought it was over...but all this time Shantry was..."

"Tess please, don't cry. You know Tim; he won't go down without a fight...he'll hold out 'til Jethro and the others find him...you know that..." Andrew may have been talking to his wife, but Gibbs and Tony were pretty sure he was trying to convince himself as much as Theresa.

"Andrew, we have work to do. Are you sure I can't get someone to take you home?"

"We won't rest wherever we go Jethro; I think we'd like to stay; could we wait in here?"

"Take as long as you need...one of us will check in when we have news. We are going to find him. Let's go Tony."

Gibbs and Tony left them together to find what comfort they could in these dark hours.

The scene that greeted them in the squad room was one of organised, intense activity, but there was an undercurrent of excitement; a hope that at last, they had something concrete to work with, someone who could lead them to Tim McGee.

That glimmer of hope started to fade as the day wore on and they still had no sighting of Shantry, or any further clues as to Tim's whereabouts. The sky turned slate grey and a steady rain started falling, the drops got heavier, and there were distant rumbles of thunder, the weather seemed to reflect the darkening mood in the squad room

Security camera footage from around St. Vincent De Paul church had proved useless, and Father Flynn couldn't honestly remember all of the faces he had seen that morning.

Abby was still working on the picture, enhancing the background, and trying desperately not to focus too often on the man at the centre of the picture. Every available agent had worked throughout the afternoon and early evening with Gibbs and the team to build up a picture of the man who had taken one of their own.

Adam Shantry had been born into money and privilege; and a family tradition of service in the US Navy dating back to 1887. Unable to serve himself due to a congenital heart condition, he seemed to have seen his only son as the means of living out the career he could never have.

William was a good sailor, a hard worker according to both commanding officers and peers. There were no reprimands on his record, nothing to indicate that the latest Shantry to serve would bring dishonour to the Navy. But things changed, he put in an application to the Seaman to Admiral Programme, and when he was turned down, his life spiralled out of control.

The police report into his death had vindicated the officers involved in the shooting. As Theresa had told them William had come out of the liquor store firing, and with civilians to protect, the officers had no option but to shoot. The post mortem had shown that William was high on PCP, so there was a possibility he didn't know what he was doing, but in the heat of the moment with bullets flying around them, there was only one course of action open to them, and no one at NCIS blamed the San Diego police for their actions.

There was a sudden whirlwind of activity as Abby came running toward Gibbs, a breathless Ducky in tow.

"Gibbs! Gibbs…Tim…he's in a cave…or ravine…somewhere natural, it's not a house or anywhere man made…the background…rocks…"

"Take a breath Abs, show me."

She clicked the remote and showed the enhanced picture, she was careful to only show the wall behind Tim, she couldn't bear to look at his poor battered body one more time.

"That's good work Abs, if Shantry has him close to DC, this will narrow down the areas we need to search. Tony, get me the areas around here where there are cave formations."

"We've already got them Gibbs." Abby gestured to Ducky, and he gave Gibbs a printout.

"There are more places than I would have expected Jethro, but it has to be better than what we had before."

"You got that right Duck. I need to talk to Shantry's brother."

Gibbs waited impatiently for the signal from the MTAC technician; he had been waiting to speak with Adam Shantry's younger brother…Captain Liam Shantry, USS Ronald Reagan. The screen flickered into life.

"Special Agent Gibbs; what did my brother do this time?" The voice was resigned, as was the expression that went with it.

"He kidnapped a Federal Agent."

"What! That sounds extreme, even for Adam."

"There's no mistake, he took one of my people, Special Agent Timothy McGee."

The Captain's eyes opened wide. "McGee…he anything to do with Commander Andrew McGee?"

"His son."

Liam Shantry looked out at Gibbs with a new gravity in his expression. "Jesus…he did it…I never dreamed…" His voice trembled slightly as he asked. "You know about William?"

"Only what we read in the police reports, I was hoping you could fill in the gaps; explain the sudden change in him."

Liam gave a bitter laugh. "In a word, Adam. From the day he persuaded Will to apply for the STA programme, he never gave the kid a minute's rest. Study this, work harder in the gym, study some more…I think that's when Will started taking stuff, just to get him through the day. When Will was turned down…I wish I had been there, but I was at sea…if I had seen Will, I could have talked to him, maybe made his dad see some sense…not that it was ever easy getting Adam to see anyone else's point of view…"

"He pushed William that hard?"

"You have no idea Agent Gibbs, he said jump, Will asked 'how high?' But whatever he did it was never enough, Adam always wanted more…and it cost him his son…That day at the liquor store…Will…I think the papers were right, at the time they called it suicide by cop…I think Will wanted to die…to get some peace…" Liam shook his head slightly, trying to clear from his mind thoughts of what could have been. "You say Adam has one of your men?"

"He does…he's injured, maybe worse…we need to find him Captain. Do you have any idea where your brother would hide someone, some place that was special to him…and William?"

Liam was silent for a moment, then he gave a brief smile. "They were close, when Will was a boy…it was great to see them together…Oh Lord, of course…Adam took Will sailing, taught him to handle a boat on Lake Habeeb, Rocky Gap…we had a house close by…it was the happiest I ever saw them."

Gibbs could barely contain his excitement; Rocky Gap State Park had been on Abby's list. "Thank you Captain, I wish I didn't have to open old wounds."

Liam looked directly into the camera, willing Gibbs to understand his nephew. "William was a good kid, he deserved better than Adam could give him, and the saddest thing is that Will loved the sea, almost as much as he loved the Navy; he was happy as a Seaman…I just wish Adam could have let him be. I wish you well in your search Agent Gibbs; Will would have hated to be the cause of someone's suffering."

Gibbs hurried out of MTAC and was half-way down the stairs before his sudden euphoria died…he'd caught a glimpse of the scene outside the window, it was dark…there was no way they could think about searching tonight, ground conditions would be treacherous after the storm. Searching in daylight would be hard, at night…he already had one man hurting out there, he wasn't going to take unnecessary risks with anyone else.

Gibbs slowed his pace as he descended the last few steps. "Listen up people, we have a possible location for McGee." He waited for the expressions of joy, and the inevitable questions to die down. "There's nothing definite, and it's a big area to cover, but he could be in Rocky Gap State Park; the list we have shows cave formations in the Evitt's Mountain area of the park."

"When do we move Boss?" Tony was already grabbing his back-pack, and other agents were following suit.

Gibbs gave one of his piercing whistles. "We can't do any more tonight, it's dark and potentially dangerous out there…I mean it Tony…you think Tim would be happy if you broke your neck?"

Reluctantly Tony put his back-pack down and slumped in his chair; he was exhausted, but he would have been happy to work all night to bring Tim home. He looked across at Ziva and Abby knowing full well they felt the same way…he also knew how much it would be eating Gibbs up inside to leave Tim alone for one more night.

Gibbs scanned the faces in the squad room. They were almost at the end of their tether…every one of them had given their all…and now they were so close, yet Tim was still so far away. They all needed rest. If they could get some sleep, real sleep in their own beds, they'd be ready to go tomorrow, as soon as the sun came up, they would move.


	9. Chapter 9

**Compulsion**

Was he dead? It was dark…he was hot…no cold…he wasn't sure…wait, could he be in this much pain and be dead? He must be alive, and thirsty, he wouldn't be thirsty if he was dead…he knew that. What else did he know? He wasn't hanging from that hook, he was on the ground, dirt…he could taste it. He couldn't stay here…what if he came back…

Were his eyes open? Tim tried to send the requisite messages to his brain, and slowly his heavy lids managed to open…not dark, not entirely, he could make out the floor; he tried to lift his head. When did the simplest movements get to be so hard?

Light…there was light, just out of reach, but he could see it, maybe light meant freedom, he had to find out; but to do that he had to move…could he do that? Had he broken any more bones when he fell? All he could remember was the pain in his hand…the scream; he remembered the scream, then oblivion…How long had he been lying in the dirt? He had no idea, but every minute he'd been unconscious was another minute closer to the time Shantry could come back.

So, two choices, lie here and wait to die, or move…very slowly Tim moved his right leg, that seemed to work…then his left, okay, not broken…his hand…he really did not want to look at his hand…but he had to assess the damage…he raised his head a little and heard the quiet rattle of the chain as the shackles moved slightly…oh that was a mess…his right hand was bloody, very bloody, he wouldn't risk trying to move his fingers, he could imagine the pain that would cause, he didn't need to feel it…his left hand was in better shape, the wrist was raw, but he could move the fingers…and the thumb…what had he done to his other thumb? Would he get full use back in his hand? Move Tim, move, or you'll never have to worry about moving ever again…

He was so tired…maybe just a few minutes rest, then he could go…he closed his eyes, but he didn't sleep, he knew he couldn't, not right now…he dragged himself to the wall…it was rough…if he could get a firm hold…he rested his good hand on the wall and tried to put his weight on it, to pull himself up from the ground…he couldn't do it…he was too weak…no, he could do this, even if he had to crawl he would get out of here.

He slumped back to the ground, but this time he had no intention of resting, gritting his teeth, and breathing as deep as he could, he planted his elbow on the ground and pulled his legs along the floor, move the arm, drag the legs, he could do this, he could get out…but it was hard, and it was incredibly painful, inch by inch he moved along, each movement an agony as more of his skin was scraped from his already weakened body, his injured hand was throbbing with an intensity that sent flares into his brain…but he wouldn't stop…couldn't…

After what seemed like an eternity he was out…he was looking up at the sky…it was so beautiful, he wanted to cry…but he had no tears…there was nothing left inside…the sky was grey, but to him it was a white light. Tim closed his eyes…after so long in the dark, this sudden brightness was too much…he was outside…shouldn't he be cold? He wasn't…in fact he was hot…that couldn't be good…stop thinking…look around, where do you go now?

Tim answered his own question, anywhere but here…this was where Shantry would come looking, he had to get away. And this time he couldn't crawl…too many rocks on the ground, he couldn't navigate around them…trees, everywhere…a forest…trees…he dragged himself the few feet to the nearest tree and reached around the trunk…another deep breath, using the tree as support he pulled himself from the ground…another scream escaped his parched lips…quieter this time…he no longer had the energy even to cry out…he looked down, the wound on his chest was bleeding again…must have scraped it against the tree…no matter, he was upright, standing on his own two feet…whoever would have thought that could be so tough…

He stood, holding on to the tree with his good arm, his right hand hanging limply at his side, the metal shackle making a noise that sounded inordinately loud out here in the open…he had to be careful, stay quiet…stay hidden…get far away from this place…he started to laugh, quietly, but almost hysterically…far away…how was he going to get far away in his current condition? He'd be lucky to be able to walk…so start walking…you'll never know if you can do it 'til you try.

Tentatively, and with an undercurrent of dread in his heart Tim let go of the tree and let his legs carry his body weight…that worked…now to try moving…one foot in front of the other…babies do it, how hard can it be? He soon found out, it was plenty hard enough, but he could do it; at snail's pace maybe, but he could do it. He had managed about ten paces when he felt the first drops of rain on his bare skin…that was all he needed…the sky darkened and the rain got heavier, there were rumbles of thunder echoing around the hills…he gave a wheezy laugh again…stay away from trees in a storm, that's one of the first things you learn…and here he was, barely able to walk, surrounded by trees, and the rain getting heavier…rain….come on Tim, think! He lifted his head to the sky and opened his mouth wide, gulping in the precious drops of moisture…it wasn't much, but it eased the burning dryness in his mouth.

He lurched from tree to tree like a drunken man, all the time dragging the shackles behind him, taking in more drops of rain, nothing he'd ever had in his life had tasted so good…washing away the staleness in his mouth…then he remembered, he must look a fright…the vomit…the filth…the blood…he leaned against a boulder and let the rain wash him clean…he wasted time he could ill afford wiping as much of the mess away as he could…he didn't even know why he was doing it…if he landed up on Ducky's table he'd get washed down…but somehow he didn't want to be found looking like he'd been lying in his own filth…oh man…if they found him he'd be naked…Tony was going to have plenty to say about that, and Ziva! He could only hope that she wouldn't be there…wouldn't see…he didn't want them to see him like this…stop it! What does it matter how you look? Maybe they'd never find him…if Shantry came back…would he bury the evidence? He'd be another missing person…

That was not going to happen…he had to keep going. Step by inexorable step he moved slowly through the forest, trying to avoid the worst of the rocks and stones underfoot, but he couldn't dodge them all, and his feet hurt…almost as much as his hand…the rain was making things much worse, and he almost lost his precarious footing several times…it was getting darker too, wouldn't be safe to move soon, and he was so tired…

Tim opened his eyes…he was on the floor again, and his hand felt like someone was pushing red hot nails through the flesh…the rain was falling harder than ever, but he still wasn't cold…this was so wrong…but he didn't remember why….and why was he on the ground again? He must have slipped…fallen down the hillside…he was lying on bracken, and it felt so soft…so comfortable…he couldn't risk walking in the dark, if he just lay here, got some sleep…he'd be ready to go tomorrow, as soon as the sun came up, he would move.


	10. Chapter 10

**[b]Progression[/b] **

He didn't need to wait for sun up; this park had been like his own back yard for years. He'd get started now, and be at the cave by the time there was daylight, he wanted to watch McGee die. Shantry moved quietly, but quickly through the undergrowth; it hadn't been his original intention to come back for another few days, his plan had been to arrange a little 'accident' for Welford's son. That was before the sudden increase in security at David Welford's college…but he could be patient, once they found McGee's body…let the fuss die down, they'd forget….things would get back to normal, and then he could strike, when they were least expecting him…

He'd expected them to react when he took McGee, but they were quicker than he'd anticipated, not that it mattered, he had waited this long…he could wait some more, a month, a year, two years…he was a patient man, for Will's sake, he could wait.

He checked the gun again; it had always been his favourite, ever since his own father gave it to him for his twenty-first birthday. He'd taught Will to shoot with this gun, and was going to give it to him on his birthday…but Will never got to be twenty-one. It was a good weapon, a faithful friend…what better weapon could there be to end the life of Andrew McGee's son, to begin quenching the heat of his vengeance…

It was still dark when the search team assembled near Bottle Run Road, this would give them the quickest access to the area of Evitt's Mountain where the caves were located. Abby had given them the exact location and Vance had arranged for satellite thermal imaging of the area, he also had a medevac helicopter scrambled and in the air, ready when required.

They had all managed to get some sleep last night, maybe not enough, but it would have to do. None of them wanted Tim out there a minute longer than necessary.

Gibbs was standing beside Andrew McGee, both of them staring up at the sky, waiting for the first shards of light to break the intense blackness.

"Andrew, are you sure about this? Shouldn't you be with Theresa right now?"

Andrew tore his eyes away from the sky for a moment to look Gibbs in the eye. "Tess is still sleeping; Ducky had to sedate her last night. He's watching over her, when she's awake he's going to take her to Abby's lab...he said they'd keep in touch with the operation from there…Jethro; this is where I have to be…he's my son."

Gibbs nodded and gripped Andrew's shoulder. For a brief second Andrew had sounded just like Tim the day Sarah was in trouble. 'She's my sister.' He'd said, simple as that, like that explained everything, and to a family like the McGee's it did…they were a true family, they were there for each other. Well Tim had another family too, a work family, and they were here…

Ziva fastened her jacket and reached into the trunk for her back pack, she noticed Tony folding a blanket and squeezing it inside his own bag. He looked up and caught her gaze. "It's for Tim; when we find him, he…he's not going to want people seeing him…you know…in the picture…"

She smiled at him; sometimes Tony could still surprise her.

"I understand Tony, come, it is time."

They walked side by side, ready to go, both hoping this was still a rescue mission, and not a long climb to recover a body…Tony squared his shoulders, he would not think like that…Tim was out there, he was waiting for them…and they wouldn't let him down.

The teams split up into their designated groupings and headed off, each of them with a different route; they wanted to cover as much ground as they could, as fast as they could. It wasn't easy terrain, the ground was still wet from the rain, but their progress was steady, in fact they were making a good pace, but Gibbs was still worried. Was Tim even here? They were taking a chance putting all their eggs in one basket and only searching this area, but in the absence of any other concrete evidence this was the only place they knew to look for Tim.

Gibbs shook his head, no good thinking like that, focus on what's important, finding Tim and getting him the medical help he needed. He'd been gone for three nights…how long could he survive hanging like that? Injured, no water, no food…and Gibbs didn't even want to think about the damage being done to Tim's arms…and as to his mental state, how was he dealing with being alone and hurt, trapped? Gibbs marched on, the others following close behind; Andrew, Ziva and Tony every bit as determined as Gibbs himself, they moved on relentlessly, he didn't even break stride when the satellite phone he was carrying sent out its shrill tone. "Gibbs."

"We have a development Gibbs." The Director's voice had an edge that Gibbs had heard only rarely.

"What's wrong Leon?"

"The thermal imaging…we have two unidentified heat signatures, one moving fast, almost at the cave, the other further down the hill…stationary."

"Not in the cave?"

"No Gibbs, if it's McGee, he's not in there any longer, but he's not moving…the other one, he must be in the cave right now, we just lost his signature. If it's Shantry, and McGee's gone…"

Gibbs knew what that meant, if Tim had escaped, and heaven only knew how he could have done that, but if he had…Shantry had invested too much time and energy in this plan, he wanted Tim dead, and he wasn't about to let him go.

"How far are we from McGee?"

"About 800 yards, we're sending exact co-ordinates…"

"We're on it!" He turned to the others. "Change of plan, Tim got out! We have new directions, follow me!"

They picked up pace and moved as fast as they could through the thick undergrowth. Gibbs could well imagine the scene back at NCIS as they all watched the blurred heat signatures getting closer…Abby would have found a way to watch, he knew that, even if she wasn't allowed in MTAC. Would Ducky have taken Theresa to the lab, would she be watching? Praying that they got to her son before Shantry…Gibbs hoped not, some things it was better not to see…

"Gibbs." Vance couldn't disguise the added tension in his voice. "Shantry, he's heading down the gorge, he's almost there…McGee, he seems to be moving, but it's slow…"

"How close is Shantry?"

"One hundred yards maybe."

Gibbs broke into a run and the others followed suit…running, sometimes slipping in the mud, but never giving up. The only sound was the cracking of branches as they broke through the trees, almost there…another noise, a sound that had startled birds taking to the air, a sound that sent chills through the runners…a single gunshot…it echoed round the hills, and drilled into their brains...One thought was racing through their minds, not now, please…not when they were so close…


	11. Chapter 11

7

**Conclusion**

Within moments they were there, breathlessly they took in the scene, and with a professionalism that made Gibbs proud they went into their well-drilled routine. Both men were lying on the ground, Shantry had blood seeping from a cut on his forehead, he was out cold, quickly Ziva cuffed him, pocketed his gun and hurried to join the others at Tim's side. He was face down, motionless, his body covered in cuts and bruises, his left arm outstretched, the hateful, bloodstained shackle lying in the grass.

Andrew knelt beside his son, but he couldn't bring himself to check for a pulse…what if there wasn't one? How would he tell Tess?

Gibbs put his fingers to Tim's neck; he smiled briefly and yelled into the phone. "We need that chopper, now!"

Tony had the blanket out if his bag. "Boss…the gunshot, is he hit?"

"Let's take a look…go easy."

As they turned him over, very carefully, very slowly; Ziva turned away and she took her place guarding Shantry, she wanted Tim to know that she had not looked at his nakedness, he of all men she had ever known would hate to be seen this way.

Andrew could barely look himself, his son…how could Shantry have done this to his son? Gibbs quickly checked for signs of a gunshot wound, there were plenty of cuts and bruises, and Tim's right hand looked like it had been through a grinder…

"He wasn't shot." Tony's voice trembled with suppressed tension, he was sure when they heard the shot, that Tim would be hit…He took the blanket and laid it gently over his friend. "Hey Tim, we got you now…you're safe."

There was no response, Tim hadn't moved the whole time they had been here, but he was breathing, he was alive…Andrew wanted to take his son by the hand, to hold on tight and tell him that he loved him, but all he could see was that evil metal bracelet around Tim's wrist, the chain…then he saw Tony's gun, he must have put it there while he put the blanket over Tim. Andrew grabbed the gun, got to his feet, and stood over Shantry, he took off the safety catch and aimed

"You bastard! You wanted a life for a life, how about I take yours" His hand was shaking slightly, but his intent was clear for all to see.

Gibbs took a small step closer to him. "Andrew, let the courts deal with him."

"But you see what he did."

"Dad…no…"

It was the softest whisper, but it had more power over Andrew than the loudest scream. He thrust the gun into Tony's outstretched hand and ran to his son's side.

"Him…or me…had to…"

"You hit him Tim?" Gibbs was kneeling beside Andrew, trying to grasp how Tim could have fought back against Shantry.

Tim gave a weak smile. "'tici…pate…heard him…waited…" He tried to lift his hand, and Gibbs saw it…

"You used the shackles…that's great work Tim. Ziva, over here, get this off…"

He backed away slightly to give Ziva room. She leaned forward and briefly kissed Tim's cheek. "I am happy to have you back McGee…I will try not to hurt you…"

"Doesn't hurt…now…"

Gibbs didn't like the sound of that, if Tim really wasn't feeling any pain, it was well past time they got him to the hospital. Anxiously, he looked up at the sky, where was…there, at last, he heard the distinctive sounds of the helicopter rotor blades and the dark blot in the sky got bigger. "They're here Tim, not long now."

Tim tried to focus, to thank them for coming for him, but there was too much noise, after days of solitude…it was overwhelming…he couldn't deal with this right now…

"Tim! Don't do this, you're so close." Andrew held tight to Tim's hand; he'd watched in horror as his son's eyes closed and his head lolled to the side, seemingly devoid of life.

Gibbs quickly felt for a pulse, it was weaker now, too weak, but it was still there. "He's holding on Andrew, the medics are here, he's come this far…he won't give up now, he's a fighter, right?"

Andrew didn't take his eyes from Tim's face, but he gave a quick nod, and smiled down at his son. "Tim, I love you…and I'm so proud you've come this far, just a little longer, you can do it, you have to, please…" He felt strong hands pulling him away as the medics got to work. Andrew stood as they prepared Tim for the flight; powerless…unable to do anything but pray, just like the last time…

"Boss!" Tony had to shout to be heard over the chopper. "Shantry, he's coming round."

The Med Tech was strapping Tim onto the cradle; he paused for a moment. "You have another casualty?"

"No!" Gibbs was brusque. "He can walk, we'll take him."

"Roger that." The medics completed their tasks quickly and efficiently, and Tim was winched up to the chopper. As the helicopter banked away from them the others drew breath; Tim was in the best hands now, it was their job to get Shantry behind bars.

"Take these off me! Do you know who I am?"

Tony answered, his voice low and menacing. "We know who you are alright; you're the lowlife piece of scum who left one of our team to die."

Shantry's eyes blazed with fresh hope. "He's dead? Then who hit me?"

"My son hit you; he's a lot harder to kill than you think." Andrew stood beside Gibbs as they watched Shantry come to terms with this latest blow.

Gibbs picked up the bloody shackles and held them up for Shantry to see. "He heard you coming, you underestimated him, and you paid the price. He hit you with these…when we check them at the lab we're going to find your blood on here along with his."

"No…that's not possible…not after…"

This time it was Ziva who stepped forward. "Not after you tried to kill him by inches…I do not know where he found the strength, but he did…thank God."

"God! Don't talk to me about God. He had nothing to do with this; a righteous God would strike them all dead…they killed my boy."

"So you tried to kill mine?" Andrew was calmer now, what he needed now was to be with his wife, and to be there when his son woke up.

Gibbs pulled Shantry to his feet. "Come on, you've got a long list of charges waiting back in DC."

They started the steady climb back down; Shantry was still reeling from the news that Tim was alive. He looked helplessly at Gibbs.

"Why wouldn't he die? My son died…I wanted him dead…"

"McGee has too much to live for. Not like William, he wanted to die; to get away from you."

"No! Liar, don't you dare…"

"Oh I dare alright Shantry; you hounded your son until the only way he could escape from you was to die…you drove him into those bullets as sure as if you fired the gun yourself."

"That's not true! He loved me…"

"He feared you...he wanted to make you proud, but he could never be good enough. He was happy as a Seaman."

"Don't be stupid! How could he be happy taking orders? The Shantry's don't take orders, we give them."

Gibbs glanced at Andrew and shrugged his shoulders; what was the point? Adam Shantry had convinced himself that four entirely innocent people were responsible for his son's death, and nothing Gibbs could say was likely to change his mind. He'd have years in prison to think about what he'd done, both to William and Tim; maybe someday he'd take responsibility…

By the time they got to Bethesda Theresa, Abby and Ducky were already ensconced in the waiting room. Andrew ran to his wife, threw his arms around her and hugged her tight.

"Oh Tess…I was so scared…when we heard the gunshot; I thought we'd lost him this time."

"I know Drew…we were watching…"

She guided him to a chair and sat beside him. How could she put into words the sheer terror of seeing those multi-coloured blobs moving ever closer? She'd been holding on to Abby's hand, Ducky standing beside them, his mouth moving in a silent prayer. Everything got so confusing for a while, then Gibbs called for the chopper and she knew Tim was alive…and that was enough then; but now she wanted more, she wanted to know that he was going to be okay, that Shantry had not taken her son…

Andrew took her hand. "He'll pull through Tess, we've been here before, remember?"

She leaned against his shoulder. "I remember…but that doesn't mean it gets easier; and it's harder for you…always being first on the scene."

"At least I wasn't alone this time; Jethro and the others were with me." Andrew smiled warmly at the other occupants of the room. "I don't know how to thank you for everything you did...finding Tim, getting him back to us."

Gibbs couldn't help laughing. "Seems to me Tim made a pretty good job getting himself back. To do what he did, even cracking Shantry on the head with the shackles."

"I beg your pardon?" Ducky couldn't contain his surprise.

"Gibbs is correct Ducky." Zia tore her gaze from the door and turned her full attention to the ME. "I do not know how he did it. I have always thought McGee had reserves of strength about which we know nothing; but to summon up such spirit, when he must have been hurting so much…oh, Theresa, I am so sorry, that was…."

"The truth Ziva, I know he must have been in pain, and that eats me up inside. I'm his mom, every time he gets hurt, I feel his pain, even when I don't see it…poor Andrew, he has to see it too. Just like when Tim had his accident."

"You were in the Camaro too?" Tony swung round to face Andrew.

"No Tony…I was following, a few cars behind, trying not to be obvious, when I saw the bus…I knew he couldn't stop in time. I had to wait for the emergency crews…he was trapped in the car…his leg…I kept talking to him…don't know if he heard me."

"Tim said he doesn't remember anything after the crash."

"That's right, and I'm happy for it to stay that way, I never told him about being there; he felt bad enough about wrecking the car…like that mattered…I just wanted him to get well…When I saw him today, all the blood…not moving, I thought Shantry had done what the car wreck couldn't, and I…I…lost it…if Tim hadn't spoken, I think…"

Gibbs got up from his chair and stood in front of Andrew. "Shantry would have deserved it too…but you raised your son to be a good man, he was protecting you, didn't want you to have blood on your hands."

Andrew was about to reply when the door opened and their waiting was over. The doctor had mostly good news. Tim was dehydrated, had mild hypothermia, and some of his cuts, particularly on his feet, and chest were infected. But he hadn't suffered traumatic blood loss, and best of all, the break in his thumb was an extra-articular fracture, rather than a break in the joint itself, and the ligament damage was minimal. Tim was still looking at several weeks out of action, but the prognosis for a full recovery was good, and right now, that was all they needed to know. Given the way he had looked when they found him, they all had reason to thank God, and Tim's tenacity that his condition was no worse. None of them wanted to think too long about how they would have found him if he hadn't been able to escape from the shackles before Shantry returned.

The doctor's orders had been for family visiting only. "He'll be out of it for most of the time, the pain meds will see to that. He needs rest, lots of it."

Andrew gratefully shook the doctor's hand. "Thank you Doctor Thornton, but we're all family in this room. So if you don't mind, we'll all go visit, and don't worry, we won't disturb him, we just need to see that he's okay."

The doctor was about to protest, but given the determined looks on the faces around him, and the knowledge that his patient had been isolated for over three days, he relented. "Very well, but five minutes, then I only want to see Agent McGee's parents in the room."

"Thank you!" Abby treated Doctor Thornton to a quick hug and they all followed him along the corridor to Tim's room.

"You go in; I'll be at the nurse's station if you have any questions."

Andrew opened the door, and they quickly filed in to the room. Abby's first instinct as always when someone she cared for was hurt, was to race over and hug Tim; but this time she knew that place belonged to someone else. So she stood aside and let Theresa and Andrew stand beside their son.

She'd been expecting the IVs and the monitors, but Abby was still shocked by the sight of her Timmy lying in a hospital bed, it just seemed…wrong. She wasn't sure whether Tim looked better or worse than in the photograph Shantry had sent. He wasn't pale; his skin had a rosy hue that had more to do with a slight fever than with being healthy. His right hand was encased in a cast, and both wrists bore snow white dressings…there were so many cuts and bruises on his face, his shoulders, his arms…and there was another dressing on his chest, hiding from sight the wound Shantry created just so he could write that evil note. Suddenly she felt sick; she reached out her hand for some support, and whispered a question. "Ducky, is he really okay? He doesn't look okay."

"It's early days Abigail, Timothy needs time to heal."

Theresa stroked her fingers lightly down Tim's flushed cheek, he was too hot, she knew that; but the doctor said the IV antibiotics would soon get to work…

"Mom…" His voice was hoarse from lack of use, and his eyes were fever bright, but he knew her; and for a mother who had lived on the edge of her nerves for days, that was enough. He turned his head slowly, and gave her a weak smile. "I think…I…I missed…your birthday."

Angela leaned in to kiss his forehead. "Tim, having you back, that's the best birthday present I ever had. And when you get out of here you're coming home for a visit…"

"Sounds good…Dad…you okay?"

Andrew was hovering behind Theresa, unable to look his son in the eye.

"Drew, what are you doing back there? Come closer."

Andrew moved a little closer, and tentatively reached out to touch Tim's arm. "I am so sorry Tim, all this is my fault…Shantry was out to hurt me…and you had to go through all this…"

"No! Don't…say…"Tim tried to sit up, to reinforce his point, but he fell back in the bed breathless with the effort of moving. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then tried again. "It's all on him…you told me about…what happened to Will…I remembered him…because I was…so grateful I had a dad who...let me be what I wanted to be…"

"Come on Tim, stubborn as you are, how could I stop you?"

Theresa smiled…this was better, much better. "Tim, Jethro and the others are here too…"

Tim could feel the pull of sleep, he was so desperately tired, but he had to tell them. "I knew you would…find me…but I had to…before he came back…couldn't risk…thanks for coming…for me…" The meds took over, and his eyes closed once more, but this time they weren't worried, this time he was being cared for, he was going to be okay.

Gibbs looked around the room; at the faces of the people who had worked so hard to bring Tim back safe, content now that he was home...they were family…not Shantry's warped idea of what family meant, this is what a real family looks like…"Come on people, let Tim's mom and dad have some time with him, we can come back tomorrow."

They made their way reluctantly to the door, Andrew and Theresa waved farewell, and went back to watching over Tim…Their determined son…he had fought for life from his very first breath, and it would take more than an act of crazed revenge to take him from them…he would live to fight another day…

THE END

_One sole desire, one passion now remains _

_To keep life's fever still within his veins, _

_Vengeance! dire vengeance on the wretch who cast _

_O'er him and all he lov'd that ruinous blast. _

_Thomas Moore Lalla Rookh-The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan_

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